The Resurrection
by Z98
Summary: After 200 years the legacy of the Animorphs still live, and yet the war for survival is hardly over. In their desperation, morals and ethics are broken and a wild scheme is hatched and carried out. Now, the barrier between life and death is broken.
1. Prologue: The Last Right

I don't own Animorphs.

I've rewritten this story to be a bit more complex. Also, the threat has changed slightly. The source of all their problems remains the same, but I never did get around to it in the previous version. Also, I made the mistake of splitting the focus away from Rachel. This really is a story about her, so I'm correcting that mistake now. And yes, the prologue has been lengthened and changed.

Animorphs

The Resurrection

Prologue: The Last Right

"Vitals are stabilizing."

"Brainwave activity is still minimal."

"Is blood getting to the brain?"

What were those voices? What the heck were they saying?

"Blood is being supplied with oxygen. Full circulation to the brain. Shall we try a neuro-charge?"

"Do it."

A jolt, and I was awake. Or close to it. My eyes snapped open but vision was blurred. I barely registered that and tried to cry out but a pathetic groan escaped instead. What the hell was going on? Nothing was clear and I couldn't think right. Things didn't make sense. Hadn't I died? Wait, I was supposed to be dead? That one little fact shook me enough to focus my thoughts, at least temporarily. Vision was still incredibly blurred but second by second it sharpened. Outlines were clearer and colors separated until I could see people standing over me. They looked like doctors, but in really weird clothing. I mean, their fashion sense was horrid. Why was I thinking about fashion at a time like this? I don't know, probably because I still wasn't focused.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Ms Rachel," a voice said. "I know you have many questions, and I'll try to answer at least one. First of all, you were officially killed about two hundred years ago. Your remains were cremated and that is more or less true. However, I can assure you that you are very much alive now."

He might have answered my question, but it really didn't help my situation. I was supposed to be dead. My remains were supposed to have been cremated. Then what the hell was I?

"I suggest you rest a bit and we'll explain more of this later."

Rest wasn't a big priority for me right now and the only thing that mattered was when would I get the chance to get some answers. However, that would have to wait a bit as I suddenly felt sleep overtaking me again. I closed my eyes and drifted away, with more questions than ever in my head.

The next time my eyes opened I was staring at a rather plain ceiling. It was a milky white, about all I was aware of for the first few seconds. The next thing I noticed was some kind of IV attached to my arm. Looking around, it was clear. This was a hospital of some sort. Without warning the door slid open, like those things in Star Trek, and a guy in uniform walked in.

"What's going on?" I demanded immediately, though it came out a bit disjointed.

He got a cup of water and held me up, helping me to drink it. It was rather annoying, having to rely on someone else for something so basic.

"That should help a bit," he said. "I'm Lieutenant Jonathon Walker. I'll be your guide and bodyguard while you're in this installation."

"I don't need a bodyguard," I blurted out, my voice still raspy.

"Of course. If some assassin got this close, we'd have already failed. I am also here to answer what questions you have. And, of course, your first one is what happened. I'll begin at the start.

"The war against the Yeerk Empire was won, thanks largely in part to the actions of you and the rest of the Animorphs. Your actions forced the hand of the Yeerks and it was their undoing. The Pool ship was captured, the Andalite fleet came and helped destroy the rest of the invasion force, and the remaining Yeerks agreed to morph permanently. You also succeeded in your mission, killing Tom. However, one of his lieutenants executed you."

I wasn't too surprised what he told me. I mean, we'd won the war and that was a good thing. Right? So why was I still troubled?

"Your body was jettisoned into space and recovered and cremated. However, genetic samples and a copy of your memories were taken before that happened."

"So what am I?" I demanded. "Some kind of clone?"

Jonathan nodded. "In a manner of speaking. Genetically, you're identical to the original Rachel Berenson. You also have all her memories thanks to the copy that was made."

I had made the comment in an offhand manner. It was at least something I suspected since I knew I was supposed to be dead. However, the way Jonathan confirmed it grated at me. No, it more than grated at me. It made me furious.

"Get out."

There was no movement on his part. Jonathan remained seated at my side and regarded me calmly. I was anything but.

"Get out!"

I threw the pillow at him but he remained unfazed. He simply picked it up and set it back on the bed. The sight of this nearly drove me over the edge. How dare he remain so composed when I'm about ready to break his neck? My anger was boiling over but I had nowhere to vent it. Instead, I did something the old me would have probably never done. I curled up and began to cry.

I wasn't sobbing. Thank god for that. Instead, it was just a steady stream of tears flowing down my cheeks. It was humiliating. The sense of helplessness was incredibly frustrating. One thing was for sure though, I wasn't Rachel Berenson. No, I was just a copy. I was a thing, not a person. And I hated those who made me.

I'm not sure what happened afterwards. All I know was that I was utterly exhausted and fell asleep again. When I woke up, Jonathan was gone, something I was thankful for. I just lay there, looking up at the ceiling. I was human. That much was clear. The rumbling in my stomach was proof enough. Yet I wasn't a person. Rachel died long ago and I'm just a mimicry. Everything I did would be because I had her personality, her memories, her instincts. What kind of life was that? Maybe I could just waste away here.

No. The moment that thought entered my mind, I banished it. It was true, my instincts were someone else's. But those instincts also told me to fight, to claim my own existence. I'd make my own mark, even if I was just a clone. A fake.

The door slid open and once more Jonathan entered. I was going to ignore him, but caught sight of the cart of food. Muttering to myself, I sat up.

"Feeling better?"

"No."

Jonathan shrugged and set the cart before me. "I suggest you eat. You'll need the energy later."

"And if I refuse?" I asked. It wasn't like I was going to, I just felt like annoying him.

"You'll probably be forcefed," Jonathan stated.

At hearing that, I glared at him. Hard. Who the hell did he think he was? For that matter, what did he think I was? Some pet or experiment? If they wanted to forcefeed me, I'd let them have hell while they tried. Luckily for them, I was starving anyways. I wolfed down the food, which turned out to be just like any hospital food. Not horrible, but nothing to write home about either. Jonathan just sat there watching me. When I was done, a nurse walked in and wheeled the cart out. And for the record, it was another guy.

"You ready to listen?" Jonathan asked.

"I guess," I muttered.

"You weren't brought back for any arbitrary reason," said Jonathan. "Humanity is facing something of a crisis, one which we are partially responsible for unleashing."

Before me shapes suddenly appeared. I nearly jumped but forced myself to stay calm. It wasn't too hard to recognize them. They were DNA. What the DNA was supposed to represent I of course had no idea. But Jonathan would obviously explain all that.

"The human gene pool is degrading. Various mutations and even points of stagnation have appeared. We're not completely sure what the long term effect is, but at the current rate, it won't matter. If the gene pool isn't stabilized, soon no child will be born healthy."

"And what does that have to do with me?" I asked.

The DNA disappeared and an image of me appeared. Me in the nude. I glared at Jonathan but he remained impassive as ever. Did nothing faze the guy?

"You came from a time period before the degradation began. As far as we can tell, your genetic structure is healthy and robust. Thus making you immune to the genetic degradation, or at the very least more resistant."

"So?" I asked. "Two hundred years have passed. Shouldn't your technology be insanely advanced?"

"One would think," said Jonathan. "And while that's true, it doesn't mean we know how to get around this particular problem. Which is where you come in."

I snorted. Not lady-like, I know. But since when did I give a damn?

"And why would I help you? It's not like you people need me. You can just whip up another clone. Hell, if you hadn't given me her memories, I might have even been more cooperative."

Jonathan regarded me levelly. "Yes and no. We could make another clone, but she'd be a blank slate. Creating you was something of a one shot deal."

"Uh, what?"

"Do you remember about the ixcila?"

Ixcila. The word sounded familiar, no matter how weird it sounded.

"It was a product of the Arn. What was used to copy your memories is something similar, but hardly as advanced or sophisticated. We implanted the memories in you and you will take them with you when you die."

"Uh, what?"

I was saying that a lot. But what else was I supposed to say? And yes, I did remember the ixcila now. Cassie used it to gain the memories of some dead Andalite girl into her head. But that was another adventure unto itself. And they had used something similar on me? But when? And if so, why do I remember my own death?

"You may feel that you're disposable, nothing more than a copy, but you are just as irreplaceable as the original."

Having him tell me that didn't help much, but it did help a little. Whether he was lying, on the other hand, was a thought that I tried to ignore. For now at least.

"So? You've said why you need me. Now what do you want me to do?"

"We know the source of the mutation," said Jonathan. "If we can get a sample of the original genetic structure, we may be able to correct the defect. However, attempts to retrieve it with our own soldiers have proven disastrous. The original source infects them and accelerates the genetic degradation. As someone who does not have the genetic flaws, you might stand a better chance."

I just stared at Jonathan. That was either the most bullshit I had ever heard in my life, or else they really thought I could help them.

"Why did you bring me back?" I asked. "Why not someone else?"

"A perfectly valid question. The answer? We don't have copies of the others' memories. Nor do we have the memories of anyone else from that time period. Yours was something of a unique situation."

"So are you going to tell me exactly how you got my memories?"

"Classified," said Jonathan. "And even I don't know exactly how it was done. After all, two hundred years have passed."

"Then why should I help you if you won't tell me the truth?"

Jonathan shrugged. "I haven't told any lies yet, as far as I know. And the clearest truth is that we need someone like you. It's your choice whether you want to help us or not."

Looking at him, I couldn't tell whether he was lying or not. "I'll sleep on it."

Lying down and turning my back to Jonathan, I ended the conversation. He could talk all he wanted, but for now I just needed time to think, time to consider. No matter what, I did not intend to rush into this. My old recklessness could get me into even more trouble in something like this. Fortunately, Jonathan stood and walked out of the room. Once he was gone, I turned onto my back and stared at the ceiling once more. This was my cell, my prison. Like hell I was going to accept that.

"How is she taking it?"

Those were the words I woke up to.

"Not very well. It's expected though. Consider, what would you do if you found out you were nothing but a clone?"

"It was a necessity. We couldn't have done anything else."

"And yet, it makes one wonder if that girl's soul is still intact."

"A foolish question. All that is needed is her, not her soul."

My eyes remained closed as I waited for this odd conversation to end. They needed me? Well, they'd just have to get along without. Once silence fell I opened my eyes and saw the room was empty. Jonathan wasn't here and I was thankful for that. Trying to stand up was easier this time. I guess the rest did help. The IV was easy to remove and I didn't feel anything as I pulled out the needle. Medical technology had apparently advanced quite a bit while I was dead. That was an annoying thought. What I wouldn't give for one of Marco's bad jokes right about now. It would be so much more entertaining compared to this nightmare.

The hospital gown I had on wasn't exactly something that would blend in easily so I'd have to find something else. To my surprise a closet in the room held a few blouses, skirts, and pants. They were making this way too easy. Or were they? I'd have to see. After changing I peered out the door. No one was outside. Good. A thought occurred to me. They had restored my body, but had they restored my morphing ability? Probably not unless they were really stupid. I tried to focus and brought the image of my eagle. After a few seconds of nothing, I gave up. Too bad, it would have made sneaking out much easier.

The halls were fairly dim and deadly quiet. There were lots of doors but I didn't bother looking in any of them. Who knew what they really did here. What I really needed to find was a door leading outside. So far, I hadn't even seen a window yet.

"You know, this graveyard shift isn't even that bad."

Oh shit, I thought. Someone was coming. Taking a chance, I opened one of the doors and found myself looking at a broom closet. I ducked in and closed the door behind me.

"I mean, sure nothing happens but that's the good thing."

I didn't hear anyone responding and guessed she was probably on the radio.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyways, I'll finish this round and report back later."

After the woman passed I peeked out after her. My eyes immediately fell on the gun at her side. Despite the fact that we Animorphs rarely used guns, it would still come in handy. Especially since I couldn't morph. I crept out of the closet and snuck up on the guard. She was either not paying attention or just too focused on something else. Either way, a quick blow on her head and she was out cold. Her gun was weird, like a Dracon beam but smoother. Maybe it was a shredder, one of those Andalite weapons. Either way, it still proved nothing. This could all be some charade by the Yeerks. Who knew, maybe they had won after all.

A single memory suddenly tugged at me. It was something the Ellimist said to me. He'd said I had made a difference. Everything else was a blur but that was clear. If that was true, than we should have won. I hope.

The rest of the complex seemed to be deserted as I ran into no more guards. That was good. Now if I could just find stairs and go downstairs. Unfortunately, my luck was running out. Siren went off all around and scared the heck out of me. Yeah, I get scared. It's just that this time I really wasn't expecting it.

"Halt!"

Looks like my luck was gone. Two guards were running at me from behind and two ahead. It was time to test this gun. Aiming wasn't hard and after a few shots along with bolts of energy flying out, I downed the two in front of me and took off. As I ran past, I heard moans. I guess the weapon had a stun mode. There was no time to check for a kill setting and I also still didn't know if I was dealing with friends or enemies. But either way, I wanted to find out myself.

Without warning something popped out from around a corner and tripped me. I landed flat on my face and rolled over, trying to get back up. A foot stepped on my hand as I tried to raise the gun and a lance struck me on the breastbone, keeping me down. It was Jonathan.

"Impressive. You got rather far considering you're still adjusting to your new body."

"Spare me the compliments," I spat. "So this was all a test?"

Walker nodded. This only infuriated me more. All it really meant was that they would never let me escape and every time I found a way out might just be another one of their damned tests.

"Screw you, Walker. And screw everyone else alive. You have no right to play these games with me, and I'll be damned if I let you."

Then Walker did something else I was totally unprepared for. I had loosened my grip on the gun, or whatever it was, and it suddenly floated into the air. Walker extended his hand and it levitated gently to it. I was silent for a few seconds and could only stare at what he had done. It took quite some effort to speak again.

"Neat trick," I sneered. "Why don't you play fair like the rest of us?"

"Since when was fairness ever a consideration in war?"

The two guards came up but Jonathan dismissed them. They went back to helping their buddies. I just kept glaring at Jonathan, waiting for him to get off. After this little stunt, they could forget about me ever helping them.

"We'll see," Jonathan suddenly said, as if reading my thoughts. Was he a telepath too? "The final choice is up to you, but I hope you realize that we are only doing what is needed. And we did this after a great deal of argument so if this fails, we have no contingency."

For some reason, the way he said that, it affected me. Only later would I learn why.

"Since you're already dressed, let's take a little trip."

Walker removed his foot and lance and offered a hand but I ignored it. Better to stand by myself than to admit needing his help. I followed him alone, with no other guards present. Still, I had no weapons and trying to attack him with bare hands didn't sound appealing. He wouldn't even need to touch me to take me down.

The little trip ended up with me in a car of some sorts, which looked very futuristic and sleek and actually kind of cool, for a drive that lasted maybe an hour. The scenery at the beginning was actually a large military base. Expected, but what was unexpected was the technology. It looked like some mixture of Andalite technology with human styling. Again, they were pretty cool but I was from a generation that was used to jet fighters and the occasional Bug fighter. This must have been an air or space force base, whichever of the two, since I didn't see any tanks. Or did they even use tanks nowadays? Probably. Human mentality couldn't have changed that fast in two hundred years.

The car came to a stop and the driver walked out to open my door. I didn't let him. It annoyed me that so many people were making a fuss over me and still trying to control me at the same time. But when I stepped out, I wished I hadn't. We were at a cemetery.

I swallowed hard, having a pretty good idea of why Walker had brought me here. Once inside we made our way to a series of graves, each with a cross showing the location. The first one I came up to was Cassie. I sank to my knees. This was where my friend was buried? Here? I fought the tears that came to me. What was the point in showing me this? Why? Of course. To try to force me to acknowledge what they said was the truth. But no, this Cassie was a friend of the real Rachel. While I still thought of her as a friend, she didn't even know me. Why should she, since I'm not Rachel?

"Her husband is buried to her right," Walker suddenly said.

I looked over and saw another grave. Ronnie Chambers? Who was that?

"He married Cassie a few years after the end of the war, after she had gotten out of college. The two were happy. Had a few kids, and they went on to enjoy what life had to offer."

"What about the others?"

"Look to your left."

Of course. How could I be so blind? Right next to Cassie was Jake, then Marco, I froze. Tobias. I spun around and glared at Jonathan.

"We retrieved their bodies from the wreckage," he explained. "What was left of them. This is their final resting place. As for your ashes, we also located those. They're technically your property."

I looked over. Next to Tobias was another grave, an empty one. Mine.

"Why is this here?"

"A monument of sorts. Though your body was cremated and Tobias took the ashes, people still wished for something to be left in your memory."

That's it. It was enough. I turned around and stormed away.

Jonathan suddenly grabbed hold of me. Instinctively, I took hold of his arm and kneed him in the chest. Even psychic boy here had to have felt that. He grunted and clutched his chest while other soldiers ran up. With a wave of his hand, he sent them back to whatever they were doing.

"I'm sorry for what we've done to you," he said when he'd recovered enough. "But we're doing it for a reason. We're trying to save the world, just as you and your friends did."

"Except we never did anything like this!"

Jonathan tilted his head somewhat before speaking. "David. The detonation of bombs in the Yeerk pool. The auxiliary Animorphs. The flushing of the Yeerk pool ship. While what I've read makes me believe David deserved what happened to him, you've done some rather questionable things during your battles. And are you going to make the same mistake as him?"

My face twisted into disgust. Not just because he mentioned David, but he had also reminded me of something else.

"I never did any of those things. Do you get me? I never did any of those! Rachel did! Not me!"

Instead of responding immediately, Jonathan turned around and looked at the graves once more. He stood there silently as if lost in thought. Finally, he came up with a response that floored me.

"The only Animorph that left behind direct descendants was Cassie. All the others died before they could marry."

I had nothing to say. I couldn't say anything. Still, a sinking feeling started creeping upon me.

"Jake's parents had a third child, a daughter that they named after you. Marco's parents refrained from having another child, while your sisters of course grew up and had families of their own. Loren also remarried and had a child."

I'm not Rachel, I thought.

"You're whoever you want to be," Jonathan suddenly said.

Glaring at him didn't do any good, but I still did it. He had no right to be listening on my thoughts, if that really was what he was doing. Still, my curiosity had been piqued.

"All of their descendants have the genetic condition."

So that was it. He wanted to use guilt to make me help them.

Jonathan shook his head. "I'm simply telling you because you have the right to know. After all, you may claim not to be Rachel, but you still have a connection to all these people."

Stop listening in on my thoughts.

This time Jonathan said nothing. Maybe he was actually doing what I asked for once. Still, what he said had affected me. I looked at the graves one by one, trying to sort out how I felt.

"You said there were descendants."

"Yes."

"Can I meet some of them?"

"You've already met one."

Don't ask me how I knew, but I knew Jonathan was referring to himself. Looking him over, I tried to guess who he was. A cousin of mine? No. Wait. Oh, hell no.

Jonathan nodded. "I am descended from Loren and thus through her related to Tobias."

It was too much. I was already having trouble breathing and apparently that was the last straw and I collapsed completely. A bit unlike me, but give me some credit. Here I was, in a totally new environment, brought back from the dead while everyone else was in their graves, and I find out this guy is related to Tobias? Either way it was too much even for me. I doubt the others would have handled it any better.

Apparently I was out for a few minutes but Walker had no trouble reviving me. I didn't talk to him for the drive back since everything was still sinking in. Still, when we got out of the car, I decided I needed to know more.

"There's something you aren't telling me," I said. "There's something more to this mutation."

Jonathan nodded. "The mutation is not limited to just us humans, but also affects Andalites, Hork-Bajir, Yeerks, Leerans, and several other races. We believe it originated as a weapon of genocide."

"A what? Are we at war?"

"Yes," Jonathan said darkly. "We still don't know what exactly we're at war with, but things haven't been turning out well. The mutation is capable of manifesting in extreme ways. Those that are overcome it grow violent and soon lose any self-control. They become something else entirely. We've lost entire colonies to it, and there's something else backing the mutations. It's subtle, but it's there. Thus we're doing the best we can, but we're still losing this war on both the medical and tactical front."

"I see," I said. "And that's why you need me, to balance out the medical front?"

Another nod. "However, I must make clear one thing. Because of the uniqueness of your situation, it was decided that you would be given a last right. That right is to choose whether you wish to accept our offer and join the fight, or to be put to sleep and die permanently. This time, your brain would also be destroyed to prevent any other resurrection."

Silence was the only answer I had as Jonathan waited. Either Jonathan really didn't know me or he already knew the answer. Me, run from a fight to protect humanity? To protect the descendants of my friends and family? There was no way I was going to let that happen, no way I'd take the easy way out. No way I would run. I might not be Rachel, but I at least had her fire. And I doubt the real Rachel would ever forgive me if I did run.

"You want me to fight for you? Fine. I will."

"Consider your answer carefully. This is your last right regarding your death."

"You already heard me. I'll do it."

My last right. And I had made a decision.

End of Prologue

There are some major changes, including the fact that this Rachel really is just a clone. And of course this Rachel has to deal with the fact that she is a clone. The Animorph series covered lots and lots of issues with ethics over the run. I will likely tread on many of them.

Z98


	2. Chapter 1: First Briefing

I've decided to use Berenson as Rachel's last name, since the relation seems to be with the two fathers. That's of course assuming Rachel's mom didn't drop that last name, but I don't think she went that far.

The Resurrection

Chapter 1: First Briefing

After our little trip to the graveyard things slowed down a bit. I managed to get some more clothes and Jonathan started telling me about this war. Apparently around a hundred and fifty years ago, we humans came across this planet. It looked perfectly fine, a nice Earth like world where we could start spreading out. Not claimed by any major powers either, which was a plus. However, the colonists came into contact with something that rippled out to the rest of the human race. Not just humanity, but the Andalites, Hork-Bajir, Kelbrid, Yeerks, and basically every other race out there. This thing was somehow related to whatever had killed Jake, Marco, Tobias, and Ax.

Over the years, the mutations became more apparent. There were incidents where people turned into monsters and attacked others. The mutation began to spread until measures were made to quarantine those affected. Then, it became apparent the mutation was a weapon designed to weaken the major interstellar powers in preparation for an all out invasion. That invasion was taking place now, and we were getting our asses kicked.

"What are they called?" I asked Jonathan.

"Breeders."

I gave him a curious look. While I understood the word, I didn't really see how it related to these aliens yet.

"Their numbers are on the order of obscene," Jonathan explained. "We don't know where they come from, but the mutations can twist a normal person into a Breeder. However, we've confirmed that they do lay eggs as another way to reproduce."

"And why are they attacking us?"

Jonathan shrugged. "We don't know. It might be just an instinctive action on their part, to continue to expand. Regardless, their expansion would mean our extinction, and we obviously don't intend to let that happen."

"And I play a part in this how?"

"I've already told you about your genetic resistance to the mutation. You were resurrected now because we've found the central hive of the Breeders. If you can go in and extract a sample of the base genetic material that began the mutations, then we might be able to reverse them for all the races."

"And you expect me to do that how?"

I was saying and a lot. My English teachers would probably be appalled. But then again, I really hadn't had any English teachers. It was Rachel who did.

"With help," said Jonathan. "We're going to train you to be a soldier instead of just a guerrilla fighter."

"What, I've been drafted?"

"More or less."

Jonathan was incredibly blunt. He's straightforward and crisp, telling things like they are with no regard for the other person. He doesn't soften anything. This is why I think he's never going to get a date. Ever. I mean, Jonathan is just as likely to compliment a girl as tell her her dress looked bad. What girl would go out with a guy like that?

"I did tell you your right of choices would be severely limited."

Yeah, that he had. So now what?

"For now, we'll reintegrate you into society. We're asking you to fight for us. It wouldn't be fair to not give you anything in return."

Jonathan was demonstrating his telepathy again, along with his ability for irritation. He probably knew what I was thinking, but showed no reaction.

"How are you going to integrate me into society?" I asked, ignoring Jonathan's latest intrusion into my mind.

"You haven't really seen much of the world so I'm going to take you for a tour of the city first."

"Which city?"

"Los Angeles."

Something told me the City of Angels had changed quite a bit. I don't know why, but I did know I wouldn't recognize much in the way of things. Another drive, this time in a larger car that seemed to be armored. It looked like an SUV of some sort but as I said, bulkier with armor. I wondered why we didn't use an armored car last time. The drive was also longer this time, maybe two hours. When we came into view of the city, I was still unprepared for what lay there. Towering above the horizon were probably half a dozen skyscrapers, taller than anything I'd ever seen, and utterly beautiful as well. Each looked like they were made of glass, delicate and yet still strong.

"What are those towers for? Offices or something?" I asked. It seemed like a stupid question, but it would be good to know more about the world I was in.

"There are a total of eight towers like those in Los Angeles," Jonathan began. "The one at the center of the city is the tallest and is equipped with a massive shield generator for protecting the city from orbital bombardments or land invasions. That one houses the major government departments and the military headquarters in LA. The others are used by major industrial and commercial ventures, along with some other public organizations. Needless to say, the rent in those buildings for private corporations is very high."

"Are all of the cities laid out like that?"

"The bigger ones are. The shield is actually redundant as there is a planetary shield in case of invasion."

I looked out the window again. The city itself was still far away yet it was so clear.

"Your family's descendants live there, you know."

That turned my head, and fast. Well, it made sense. I used to live in California and after all this time I was surprised they hadn't moved to the east coast.

"They stayed to take care of your memorial."

Again with the telepathy. One of these days I would have to knock some sense into Jonathan to not use that on me.

"What else is there in the city?"

"It's cleaned up quite a bit more," he replied. "Crime is a lot lower than what you knew, there are a lot of businesses, and one of the armored corps is based outside of the city. Which would you like to see first, the base or the inner city?"

"The base," I said without hesitating. I was still a bit reluctant to see what had been done to a place that had been such an icon in my time. Besides, it might be interesting to see what new weapons had been developed. I still enjoyed seeing things go boom.

Jonathan handed me a badge and after a little while I figured out how the stupid things worked. Apparently they just attached automatically to my clothes, which surprised me at first. I guess pins are out of fashion now. We took a side road that led to one of many entrances to the military base. After our credentials were checked the guard waved us in. Inside there were lots of soldiers and maybe twenty tanks in four rows of five. To say the least, I was impressed. Each tank was sleek and had a low profile, with a long barrel stabbing into the air. They were painted white with a few black sections but I didn't see any tracks.

"Those are fusion tanks," Jonathan began. "They're powered by a miniature fusion reactor and fires antimatter shells. They move by using a magnetic field to levitate and so terrain usually isn't an issue with them. Each has a crew of three, a commander, driver, and gunner. This base belongs to the 32nd Tank Corps and they'll be shipping out in about three months to engage the Breeders on a planet we're invading."

"If you have all this technology, why do you need me?" I asked.

"Weapons aren't the only thing that wins a war. You must maintain morale, supplies, and control several other variables. Also, war is chaos. In chaos, nothing is ever sure."

So in other words Jonathan wasn't going to tell me yet. Even now, military secrecy was still high. It was something I understood, after all the secrets I had kept from my family and friends. As we got out I was handed a gun, to my surprise. It looked just like the one I had taken from that guard during the 'test,' and yet felt heavier.

"This is a particle pistol. It gathers energy from a fuel cell and accelerates the ionic particles, creating a beam of concentrated energy. The gun you used before was only a security tool, not one meant to kill. Your new weapon on the other hand…"

There was no need to continue. It was a sign of trust, I guess. Again I found that the gun attached automatically to a blue section on my belt. I had wondered what it was for, but now apparently my clothes were designed to allow me to carry weapons and other equipment. The fashion hadn't changed, just the uses.

"You'll receive training on our equipment later. For now, let's just take a look at the layout. Most bases are like this."

We went around the vehicle park, Jonathan pointing out a few more features of the fusion tanks. Apparently they also had point-defense lasers, something like machineguns but more accurate. A few guards were around but we were ignored. Next was the machine shop and just as we entered sparks started flying all around. It took a few seconds for everything to calm down and the whining of some machine to stop. As we looked in, a fusion tank was parked inside.

"It's going through a maintenance cycle," said Jonathan. "I think."

Another shower of sparks erupted, causing both of us to duck. This time I peeked in first with Jonathan looking in after me.

"What exactly are you guys doing!" he screamed in.

It was the first time I had heard Jonathan raise his voice. The noise toned down again as one of the mechanics looked at us.

"Oh, hey lieutenant. What brings you to the pits?"

"Giving a tour to a transfer," Jonathan replied. A transfer? Well, they probably did have a cover story. "Again I ask, what are you doing?"

"We're modifying the cannon," came the answer. "This tank's engine is half-dead anyways so we were given permission to experiment."

"Just don't blow up the base."

That was said a bit too dryly for my taste so I looked at him questioningly.

"Fusion tanks do have a reactor on board, though there are fail-safes. I do trust them to be careful, but things just don't look too stable."

Something was going to blow up? Cool. Well, as long as I wasn't at ground zero. The barracks were next and I found that military life apparently hadn't changed much. Each squad was stuffed into their own quarters so a few troops shared one room. Not exactly spacious, but perfectly suited to housing large numbers of soldiers. We had lunch at the mess hall and for a few minutes all I did was stare at the bowl of grayish gruel in front of me.

"I believe I asked for something normal," I said.

"The paste is flavored," Jonathan assured me. "Mine's chicken. I think yours is beef."

I tested the paste by dipping my spoon in. Yeah, this wass supposed to be beef. The hospital food had looked better. Still, food was food. I guess. Reluctantly I tasted it and found, to my surprise, it actually did taste like beef. So I was wrong this time. It still looked like gruel. There were a few chunky things that Jonathan said were for texture and I finished the entire thing. Funny what hunger would do to you.

After the meal it was decided that we'd go into the city. On the ride I noticed lots of trees and such on the sidewalks. Definitely a lot of greenery. Jonathan would point out a few of the major buildings, headquarters of some big corporation that built warships for the military, another company that made that paste as rations for the frontline troops. And there were a few parks. Monuments too. Monuments to us Animorphs, monuments to Andalites, and monuments to people I'd never seen before.

"I'm going to take you to the Federal Building," Jonathan informed me. "There's a large park around it. It's known as the Animorphs Park."

"I don't need to see more monuments," I snapped.

"We'll be passing through it anyways. You might as well take a look."

It angered me that Jonathan kept reminding me that I was such a big hero. Well, Rachel was. Sure, it was nice sometimes, but not if it continuously happened. But when we came into site of it, I gasped. The moment we stepped out, I ran towards them. It was as if they were carved out of some kind of blue crystal. The features were perfect, it was as if they could start walking and be real. We were all there, and I mean all of us. Jake stood there, tall and strong with his arms crossed and head tilted a bit, with a tiger standing right beside him. Cassie was on one knee and smiling, her hand petting a wolf that sat at her side. Marco seemed to be relaxing, with him and a gorilla leaning against each other for support. An utterly impossible scene but it was there. Tobias just stood there with an arm level with the ground. On that arm sat a red-tailed hawk. Everyone was so beautiful, so perfect, so lifelike. And there I stood, with my bear beside me, me leaning on it with the other arm waving. It really was me, or so I thought. How had they captured us so perfectly? I don't know.

"Let's take a walk," said Jonathan.

Tearing my gaze away from the statues, I realized how lonely I was. All these people thought we were heroes, and yet I couldn't relate with a single one of them. Not even Jonathan understood what had happened to me. I didn't have any kind of life, even if I had Rachel's memories. But for now, I was still clueless. Until I knew more, I was helpless. Nothing something I enjoy, but it was reality. Now was the time to deal with it.

As we walked, we came up to another statue. I recognized him too. Strange, but even though it was an older version of him I still recognized one of my few Andalite friends. Ax. He just stood there alone, with no animal by his side. But then again, whenever we went into battle Ax had rarely needed to morph to fight. And then there were some Hork-Bajirs. As I walked up I saw their names. Jara Hamee and Ket Halpak along with their daughter, Toby. There was even a Taxxon. I think it was Arbon, that Andalite that had morphed a Taxxon and went over the two hour time limit. With one last glance I walked past them. They were all allies and friends and I really missed them. On the other side were more statues. This time, they were the auxiliary Animorphs. Kids that had been disabled who we gave the power to morph. We had given it to them because we had needed more firepower. A backup just in case we were killed in battle. They each had their own morphs standing by them and I was glad they got the credit they deserved. But how many of them had died in that final battle? I asked Jonathan.

"Several. That's all I can say at the moment. But they were remembered, as were all the people who gave their lives fighting to ensure humanity's freedom. Including Prince Elfangor."

That was expected. As we rounded the park I saw it standing there. And to my amazement, a human woman stood at his side and held his hand. It was Loren, Tobias' mother. Elfangor was Tobias' father when he had morphed to a human and married Loren. An odd twist of fate, but one that I was glad happened. I walked up to them and looked at their eyes. They seemed alive, possibly a trick of light. But both were utterly beautiful. I felt tears start to well up and tried to stop them. No, this wasn't the time to cry. Especially not around Jonathan.

"Come," he said quietly.

He didn't try to take my hand as I expected, though he did kind of lead me into the building. Once inside I shook off the emotions and waited. It looked like any other sort of government building, with a ring kind of hovering over the entire lobby. I learned later they were sensors to prevent weapons and explosives from getting into the building. We took an elevator up quite a few floors before entering another large office.

"Why am I here?" I asked. "I thought I was supposed to be getting familiarized with the city."

"I'm taking you shopping after this appointment," Jonathan replied. "But do be careful. The admiral's been under a good deal of stress."

So? I was the one who had been brought back from the dead. Still, the shopping part did sound appealing. We walked past some guards and I found myself being herded into a large office. The furniture inside looked very expensive and comfortable, with a huge desk near the back of the room and some sofas lining the walls. Some plants decorated the place along with a painting of some kind of ship. I didn't recognize it from anything I'd seen before and I couldn't recall any ship that Ax described looking like the thing. There was a beautiful view looking down upon the city, everything laid out and so much more different than how I remembered L. A.

"Welcome Ms Rachel," a man said.

Both of us turned around and I found myself looking at a tall man in a dark blue uniform. He had four golden stripes on his shoulders and some kind of bird emblem on his left breast. Like any military uniform, it was simple and sharp. And lacking fashion sense.

"I am Admiral Herald, head of the Special Warfare Division. If you must blame someone for putting you in this predicament, feel free to blame me. I was the one who gave the order to have you created, so if there are going to be any problems, let us deal with it now."

This guy was blunt, to the point, and was either very cold or very desperate. I guess he was a little of both. Very much like Jonathan. At the time, I was just kind of annoyed.

"So if I wanted to punch you I could?" I asked, half-joking.

Jonathan looked like he would faint when I said this but Herald just laughed. Looking him over, I could see me punching him wouldn't do much. He looked like he was in his early twenties and yet was already an admiral. Was that a sign of how badly the war was going?

"And I thought Marco was the one with the sense of humor. Very well then. I'm going to brief you about your mission."

"I'll take that as a no," I muttered as we sat down.

"The war with the Breeders has not been going well. Earth itself has been attacked several times, with major cities being bombarded. Total deaths from the war is reaching into the billions."

I stared blankly at the admiral. "Billions?"

Herald nodded grimly. "And with the continuing genetic degradation, our birth rates have plummeted. The survival of the human race is at stake. This time we're fighting a war not against enslavement but against extinction."

"Save the speech," I said. "I know what you want me to do, and I'll do it. Though I still don't know why you think I can."

"The lieutenant has already stated our reasons. There would be plenty of volunteers amongst our special operators, but none of them would survive biologically even if they managed to get close to the source. While we can get close, we just cannot extract a sample. The idea is that we can insert you to extract a sample and escape."

"So I'll have support?" I asked.

"Of course. While the mission's probability of success is nothing to be proud of, we do not intend to send you on a suicide mission."

It sounded utterly insane and even worse than some of the things we had done before. And yet, somehow I couldn't resist. Maybe Marco was right. Maybe I was addicted to danger. Nah. I'd never admit that. But, thinking about Marco reminded me of everything else I had lost too. So what was left for me to try to do? Defend their families for them since they couldn't anymore.

"All right then. I'll do it."

Herald nodded and his shoulders relaxed a bit. "Good. We're still assembling the team so you have a few days to rest and see the city. Lieutenant Walker will stay with you and act as your guide."

"Is he coming with me on the mission?" I asked.

That stopped Herald for a few seconds. "But of course. This mission would be utterly impossible if he didn't go."

I looked at Jonathan but he didn't say anything. In fact, he looked away from me. Just great, more secrets. Well, I'll pry it out of him later. Wouldn't want to embarrass him anymore than I've probably done in front of the admiral.

We were dismissed later and I swore Jonathan hadn't been breathing the entire time we were in there. I mean, he was practically choking trying to breathe outside the office.

"Calm down," I said.

Jonathan blinked, the first time I've seen him crack. Still, his voice remained steady. "Calm down?"

"Yeah. What's the point being nervous around him? For that matter, he doesn't look much older than you. Why is he an admiral?"

"Admiral Herald is almost sixty."

My jaw dropped. No way. There's absolutely no way he could be touching sixty.

"There have been a few advances in life extension," said Jonathan. "The average life expectancy is 210."

"You have got to be kidding," I exclaimed.

"It's one way we've managed to offset the low birth rates," Jonathan continued. "The treatment for it can either be done at birth, be passed on by a parent, or before you hit 42."

"42? And what is this treatment?"

"42 is the average age," Jonathan answered. "Each person has a different point where the treatment won't take anymore. The treatment itself is manipulation of certain genes that control aging and death of cells."

I frowned. "Won't tinkering with your own DNA make things worse?"

"No. The manipulations even have a stabilizing effect. Genetic therapy is often used to treat the mutations."

I let everything I'd been told sink in. There was still so many missing holes. So far, this was what I knew. We were at war with some things called Breeders. They were the cause of something causing mutations in humans and our allies, which turned them into Breeders. Because I was somehow immune to these mutations, they needed me to get a sample of the original source of the mutations. Sound complicated? I knew it did to me, and it was probably going to get worse.

"Want to go shopping?"

I grinned. "Let's do it."

"Here."

He threw me a card and I looked it over. It seemed like a credit card but instead of a magnetic strip had some kind of holographic one on the back.

"That's worth one thousand credits," Jonathan explained. "But don't go nuts. When we leave on the mission, you'll be leaving a lot of things behind. You'll get them back if we return."

If we return. Again, that thought nagged at me but somehow didn't bother me. I mean, was I even alive? Rachel had already died and while I have her memories, I'm not her. Maybe somewhere in all the danger and the drive, I'd find myself.

Again Jonathan was quiet for the ride and I didn't know why. He seemed distant and maybe even a little sad. I could relate, kind of. Rachel was just a kid when the war started and fighting had forced her to grow up. Maybe it was just battle shock.

Those thoughts were driven out of my head when I saw the massive mall. The only thing I could do was gap and stare until Jonathan opened the door for me. I got out and again just stood there. The thing was huge; it must have been three times as big as any mall I had seen before. When we walked in I felt like I was in heaven. There was what seemed to be an infinite number of shops and each one of them had something different. However, the important ones were still there. Gap, Old Navy, etc. I grabbed Jonathan and dragged him towards them. Needless to say I spent maybe two blissful hours in there before Jonathan said we had to go. By the looks of it he was bored to death and was ready to run out of the store. Men have no taste in fashion as far as I'm concerned.

Some of the clothes they had were way too weird for my tastes but I found a few nice looking ones. We paid and I now had a new wardrobe. Now came the question. Where was I supposed to put all this?

"We're going to let you live with some of your family's descendants," Jonathan answered my unspoken question. "We're going there now?"

"W-what? Already? And for the last time, I'm not Rachel!"

"This says you are."

Out of a pocket, Jonathan pulled out a card. He handed it to me and I looked it over. My name and picture were on it, including some kind of holographic strip. I guess society had moved past barcodes.

"We've informed the family that you were in an accident and currently suffering from amnesia. While the military has taken care of basic reintegration, we believe that they are better suited to helping their family. They've agreed to take you in."

"What are they like?" I couldn't help but ask.

"A fairly typical family," said Jonathan. "You'll probably like them. The father is named Michael Berenson. He married into the family, but took his wife's name. That's been something of a tradition. Everyone who marries a Berenson takes that name, out of respect for both you and Jake."

"I'm not Rachel," I muttered, though Jonathan ignored me.

"The mother is named Jessica, and they have a son about your age. His name is Alex."

"So what do they do?" I asked.

"Michael Berenson works as a senior government official. Jessica Berenson is a genetic researcher, one of many studying the genetic anomalies. She herself cannot walk anymore because of them."

I winced slightly out of sympathy. Being confined to a wheelchair? I'd probably go nuts if that happened to me. And I was immune to this plague that was affecting so many people? It hardly seemed fair.

The car finally came to a stop in front of a two story house. It wasn't outrageous or big, it looked rather cozy. A family of three would live quite comfortably here.

"This house probably cost 500,000 credits," Jonathan suddenly said. "The suburbs are for those who have a good deal of money. Apartments and condos are actually much cheaper. We've been forced to do what we can to save space. At least 20 of the planet is still undergoing radiation cleanup from the various bombardments and strikes by the Breeders."

500,000? That seemed excessive for such a small house. Even during my time it wouldn't have been more than $300,000. We walked up and Jonathan knocked on the door. A man, maybe in his forties, opened and greeted us.

"Jonathan. It's been a while. Please, come in."

Jonathan nodded stiffly. "Thank you Mr. Berenson."

The man smiled. "You still can't call me Michael, can you?"

He stepped aside and we accepted his invitation. Somehow it felt like we were intruding upon this man's hospitality.

"And you must be Rachel. May I call you that?"

I nodded.

"My family was very surprised to find that there was someone else related to the Berenson family," the man continued. "We had thought we knew everyone in the family."

I cast a curious look on Jonathan. How had they explained that away?

"Please, take a seat in the living room. I'll go get my wife and son."

"Mind explaining how this works out?" I asked once the man was gone.

"That man is Michael Berenson. His wife is a direct descendant of Sara Berenson and everyone that's married into the family took the Berenson name. Kind of honoring your independent spirit. We decided to put you in with them for a while."

We sat down in the living room but didn't have to wait long. Michael had come back in, pushing a wheelchair before him. The woman in the chair had a passing resemblance to Sara. No, wait. She looked so much like Sara I almost wanted to cry. What Sara would have looked like when she was older, what Rachel would have seen as if she had lived long enough. Another guy came in after them and I guessed he was their son.

"Hello. You must be Rachel," the woman said. "I'm Jessica and you've already met my husband. This is Alex."

Alex nodded shyly. I wondered why.

"It was rather surprising to learn of another direct descendant from the Berenson family," she continued. "Most of the family lives around Los Angeles, though a few moved overseas to Great Britain."

"Is that so?" I said.

Michael nodded. "That's right. You suffered amnesia from an accident. We'll try to help you remember, Rachel. Alex, why don't you show her the room?"

"Sure."

Alex offered his hand and I just looked at it. He sighed a bit and took it back and walked out with me behind. I looked at Jonathan one more time before leaving.

"So you really don't remember anything?" Alex asked me.

I shook my head.

"And the military is acting as your guardian right now?"

A nod.

"Hmm. Weird. The military doesn't usually do that kind of stuff."

I shrugged. What else could I say? I certainly couldn't tell him the truth, that I was a clone of the great Rachel. Yes, I can call her the great Rachel, since I'm not her.

"They're so busy fighting the war right now they barely have time to do anything about domestic affairs."

"And the war is going badly?" I asked.

Alex nodded. "Badly enough that they're drafting everyone they can get. It's just an issue of numbers. There are far more Breeders than humans, Andalites, Leeran, Hork-Bajir, and Yeerk combined."

"I see."

"But there might be another way to win this war," Alex said, brightening somewhat. "My mother's a scientist, studying the disease the Breeders spread. If we could cure it, maybe we could restore all the Breeders to what they were. That would definitely stop the war."

That wasn't an idea I had ever considered or thought of before. In a way, Alex was right. If this disease could be stopped, the Breeders would basically be cured out of existence. Another reason for me to go on this damn mission.

"It's sad, really," Alex suddenly said. "We're trying to protect our allies and ourselves, and yet we're also trying to find a way to save the Breeders too. At times it seems hopeless, but the best thing we can do as humans is try."

The best thing we could do as humans is try. Somehow I saw myself, and a little of Jake, in Alex at that moment. And I realized what I had to do myself. I had to try to bring an end to this war. It might mean being used by those bastards in the military, but I still had to try. For the first time I was brought back, I found myself able to really smile. I would try, and nothing would stand in my way.

End of Chapter 1

As you can tell, I dropped the humans from another galaxy thing.

Z98


	3. Chapter 2: Things We Do

This chapter moves a bit slower than the last two. Still, we find out a bit more about the mission and Rachel's new team. This is also shorter because I've been distracted lately.

The Resurrection

Chapter 2: Things We Do

Staying with Rachel's family's descendants was odd at first but I adapted. What were my options? Some things hadn't changed. They still prayed before dinner and so Christianity was still around. I later found out that the Catholic Church had lost quite a bit of influence but still had a presence. I wonder what they would have thought about my creation. Probably say it was the work of the devil.

"More salad?"

That question brought me back to reality and I took the bowl. We were having dinner, something that was fairly normal except for the fact that sometimes the conversation was over my head. Like what exactly was the Quantum-Loop Theory? Or the Unified Energy Theory? Science had advanced quite a bit since my time. They explained some of the stuff to me but I felt like Ax would have understood it better.

"The military wants to double the fleet strength," Michael said. "Apparently after the losses we took at Arcturus we're low on reserves and they're planning on mounting an operation to try to cut off Breeder forces from entering the Centuri System."

"So they're accelerating the draft?" Jessica asked.

Michael nodded. "As well as rushing the current recruits through training. They don't want to risk Earth getting attacked again. The last time was twenty years ago, but we still haven't recovered."

"So the Council is going to approve it?" asked Alex.

"The Council?" I blurted out.

Michael smiled gently. "I work on the United Nations Security Council. It's the ruling body of basically the human race."

In my, Rachel's, time, the Security Council was the most powerful body in the United Nations. However, countries like the United States ignored the UN in general whenever they wanted to. Things really had changed.

"As for approving the accelerated draft, the Council doesn't have much of a choice," Michael continued. "The military is threatening to pull out of dozens of outlying sectors if they don't get more troops. We can order them to hold their ground, but they'll pull back at the first opportunity."

"How much power does the military have?" I asked. Maybe this could tell me who ordered my creation.

Michael mulled over the question for a few seconds before he answered me. "They have a significant amount of influence, but we still control their budget. While they have some freedom with classified projects, the Council generally has oversight."

"So there are things the Council doesn't know about?"

Michael nodded. "Of course, I'm not allowed to talk about the projects the Council does know about. Free speech only goes so far."

Keeping secrets from his family. Thanks to Rachel's memories, I could emphasize. But did he know about me? If he did, Michael was doing a very good job of hiding it.

"So how do you know Jonathan?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Our families are good friends," Jessica answered. "He used to live not far from here and came over often."

"He's really changed too," Alex added. "We used to play online all the time and we were both on the soccer team."

"Was he drafted?" I asked.

Michael nodded. "Right out of middle school, too. There was quite the political firestorm when it happened. Draft age remains at 18, but for some reason they picked up him far earlier."

"So why is he still in the military?"

"Because he chose to stay," said Michael. "There were a few lawsuits to try and force him out, but Jonathan did something rather unexpected. He emancipated himself from his parents and chose to remain in the military."

I winced. "Are they mad at him?"

The silence that descended answered me well enough. Jonathan really was a cold bastard if he'd left his family like that.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."

"His parents miss him," Michael finally said. "I don't think they've forgiven him for what he did, but they're willing to if he comes back. However, as far as I know, he has yet to go home once since his emancipation."

"But maybe you can convince him to go back," Jessica suddenly said. "Jonathan was the one that approached us about taking care of you."

I shook my head. "From what I've seen, nothing can move that guy. He has a very, very focused mind."

"Sounds like you've gotten to know him quite well," said Jessica.

I didn't blush or anything. It's not in my nature. Still, it was apparent these were people worried about Jonathan. How he could ignore them was beyond me and made me all the more annoyed with him. Fortunately the conversation moved onto other matters.

"The Andalites are going to start massing a fleet here in two weeks," Michael said. "They chose Earth because apparently there's less traffic around Earth at the moment. We're also going to be seeing their newest flagship."

"Oh! I heard about that!" Alex suddenly said, excited. "It's the largest Dome ship they've ever built, right? They're thinking of making all of their new ships similar, though not as big."

"How did you find out?" Michael asked, curious but still a bit serious. "Security is getting sloppy if some kids knew. Or I'm just getting old."

"Rumors, Dad. Besides, it's a huge ship with lots of weapons. What do you expect the net to be talking about?"

"Boys and their guns," Jessica joked. "And I thought I'd raised you better."

"Can you tell me about it?" I asked. It wasn't just boys that liked guns. Or big spaceships for that matter.

Alex was surprised at my question but he answered anyways. "It's supposed to be the new flagship for the Andalite fleet. The older Dome ships used to be kind of like umbrellas, with a dome and a shaft going down. However, this time the Andalites supposedly built a huge platform, something like six kilometers in diameter. But it's shaped like a six-point star. The dome also has several arches running over it. Apparently it's also really heavily armored, armed, and shielded."

"If we have all these fancy weapons, then how are we losing?" I asked. Something told me Jonathan would be a bit more hesitant to answer that question.

"The Breeders have numbers and coordination on their side," Michael answered. "From what I can gather, they outnumber us something like a thousand to one. Also, several scientists have theorized that the Breeders are linked together, and thus they can maneuver as large groups better. The Andalites are working on building a robotic fighter system, just so we can try to match them number wise."

Number wise? Made sense again. The mutations taking place certainly helped add to their numbers.

"How big are our ships normally?" I asked.

"Alex would know," Michael joked. "He studied them when he was younger."

He seemed a bit embarrassed by his father's statement but tried to hide it.

"Well, uh, I was younger and I did like things that flew. And had big guns."

A chuckle from his mother but she didn't interpret in any other way.

"The largest human ship is only two kilometers," he said. "They require around a thousand crewmen and maybe a detachment of two hundred or so soldiers for security. Uh, they have quite a few weapons. There are lots and lots of antimatter missiles, enough to obliterate a moon actually. If I remember right. Uh, each ship also has an energy oval of sorts on top and bottom. Those are used to create a focused beam of plasma, capable of cutting through almost anything. They're only semi-useful against the smaller space breeders, but enough so. Each ship also has lots of point defense lasers, though again those have limited usefulness."

"They're not effective?"

"The space-borne Breeders have a very interesting ability," Michael explained. "They're able to absorb all manner of energy and matter. Thus conventional weapons are useless. This is why antimatter weapons are used so heavily."

That was something Jonathan hadn't told me.

"And the Yeerks?"

"Interesting you should ask," Michael said. "The Yeerks are also bringing their newest warship by the same time as the Andalites. It's what they call the new class the Aftran-class mothership.

"The what?" I blurted out.

"Aftran," Michael repeated, looking over at me with one eyebrow raised. "Do you remember that name?"

It felt odd. I'd heard that name before but I couldn't pinpoint it. Maybe that memory transfer wasn't as successful as the military thought. I shook my head.

"Aftran was the Yeerk that started the peace movement within the Yeerk Empire. Without her, it would have been far more difficult for the Animorphs to succeed in their fight. She's considered a hero by many."

"Aftran," I muttered. Yeah, now I remembered her. She had been a Yeerk but she had morphed a whale and went past the two hour limit. Incredibly, Aftran showed the Animorphs that not all Yeerks were bad. That had surprised Rachel, but it was a pleasant surprise.

"There are many ways to fight a war," Jessica said. "However, the military has been limiting itself to simply throwing everything they can against the Breeders."

"It's that bad?" I asked.

"The entire war has been getting uglier," said Michael. "Another way has to be found, or else there will be no one left to try and cure this disease."

"It doesn't sound like the Breeders are letting you."

"The military just launched a major invasion into Breeder territory and they destroyed all life in three solar systems already. That's another reason to end this war."

The destruction of all life? I started wondering if I had made the right choice in joining the military. After dinner I spent some time reading a few books on current events, though I needed Alex to explain a few things to me. Jessica also gave me some history books so I was able to catch up on all that had happened.

"So Mars is being terraformed?" I said to Alex.

"Mmhmm. It's going to take a few more centuries but soon Mars will be like Earth. Though with lower gravity, of course."

At about nine I decided it was time to turn in for the day. It was kind of embarrassing not knowing how to work the shower since there was only just a panel. Jessica showed me.

"You place her hand on the panel and say warm or cold water. You can also adjust it by sliding up or down on the reader."

"No wonder this house cost so much," I muttered.

"Did you have a question?"

I shook my head. "Thanks."

"No problem."

I spent possibly half an hour in the shower and went to sleep right away. Something told me I would need another year to adapt to all the changes.

I went with Alex to his high school and sat through all of the classes. Since I wasn't technically enrolled I didn't have any work to do, just listen. Some of his teachers were nice, some complete jerks. It was high school all right. However, it was after school that things got interesting. Jonathan was waiting for me at my current home and without much of an explanation took me to the government building again.

"So why did you put me with the descendants?" I asked.

"Who else would we put you with?" Jonathan asked.

"I don't know. Give me my own apartment? Let me live on my own?"

"What would you eat? Where would you go to get food? Who would teach you how to use today's technology?"

"You."

Jonathan snorted. "I can only teach you so much, most of which deals with military matters. Who better to teach you about civilian life than civilians?"

"And what use would 'civilian' knowledge for?" I asked. "I'm here to undertake some military mission after all."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "You think we're that short sighted? If you succeed on this mission, what do you think you'll do? You'd still have the rest of your life to live out."

Deciding now was as good a time as any, I stopped and looked Jonathan in the eye. "And what about you? Are you going home if this war ends?"

Jonathan stopped. His body shook slightly for a few seconds but he got it under control quickly. He turned to return my gaze as he replied.

"I don't have a home to go back to."

"Yes you do. You have parents that miss you."

A stony silence fell. I really had struck a nerve.

"You put me with her family," I said. "They're good friends with yours. What did you expect?"

I could hear Jonathan's breathing now. Maybe I was pushing too much, but being forced to confront something was the first step to solving a problem. He didn't seem to have a temper like Rachel, but I could be wrong.

"I fight so my parents can live on in at least relative security. They can hate me for it and they never need to thank me, but I will do what I think is right."

What could I say? I let out a sigh. This guy was either the most emotionally repressed or the most pained person I'd ever met. Even worse than Tobias.

"Maybe you'll understand why I'm doing this in time," Jonathan said. "Things have changed quite a bit since the war started. For now, let's take a look at piece of technology you should be intimately familiar with."

I paused. "Morphing technology?"

Jonathan nodded. "We have to get you reacquainted with the equipment and tools used, so let's go."

Again through the security checks but this time we went down instead. In the basement was what looked like a mini military base. I mean, they had an armory full of guns and other weapons of some sort as well as suits of armor.

"This is a training facility of sorts," said Jonathan. "We also use it to store weapons for the Militia Guard, what was called the National or State Guard in your time."

"And this is where you keep the morphing cube?"

"Not exactly."

We went deeper into the installation and came to what looked like a subway. Once on the transport, Jonathan explained to me where we were going.

"This connects to the military base outside the city. We're going to get you equipped with the morphing ability once again, since it might prove useful on the insertion."

Jonathan had managed to change the topic and I didn't care to restart it. For now I'd go along, getting as much information as I could. I hated it, having to go slow. That wasn't in my nature.

We got off at the base and walked up a few flights of stairs. I saw elevators but Jonathan said that if I couldn't handle some stairs there was no way I could handle the mission. Sometimes I'm more annoyed with him than at the world. He led me to some kind of secured weapons storage bay. At the center was a green cube.

"I guess more stuff has changed.

Jonathan picked it up and let me touch it. It felt the same but who knows why it was green now?

"Advancements have allowed the morphing process to be quiet as well as painless. However, the two hour limit has also changed. You can remain in morph for up to four hours but after that your body will start reverting back by itself. Basically the genetic material used to morph becomes unstable. You can hold your form by sheer will but that takes a great deal of concentration. The good thing though is that you won't get stuck in morph."

"I guess that's something," I said. "Do animals still go into a trance when I acquire them?"

"Yes. However, certain people have been treated so that no one can acquire their DNA. You and I are two such examples. It's a security precaution."

That was good to know. I had let Cassie and one of the auxiliary Animorphs acquire me once, but that had been for a good cause. Nowadays, I really didn't want another me running around.

Our next stop was a large gym. A balance beam and uneven bars were to one side while a large mat sat on the other. A circle was drawn on it, probably for sparring. Two racks were on the walls, with a variety of staves and swords. We were alone and once in Jonathan closed the door behind us.

"Your body's physically fit, but you'll need to learn how to use it as a weapon. Depending on just morphs can limit your options."

"We, Rachel did perfectly fine just relying on morphs," I replied.

Walking over to a rack, Jonathan suddenly kicked up one of the staves and caught it. He twirled it around and walked around. Suddenly he let go and slashed upwards with his other hand. For a second the staff hung there, with the force of Jonathan's blow negating gravity momentarily. It then fell as two pieces and clattered on the ground. I looked at it before looking back at him.

"Am I supposed to be impressed by that?" I asked.

"I don't know. Are you?"

I folded my arms and gave him a look. "Maybe a little."

"Learning how to fight with your hands and feet provides certain advantages. Your body becomes a weapon, one that cannot be detected by searches and sensors. You also learn more about your own body in the process. And no matter what you think of yourself, that body is yours."

Jonathan could be incredibly logical and sensible. No matter how much I wanted to disagree with him, on certain topics, I knew he was right. The body was mine even if I was just a clone.

"All right, let's do it," I said. "At least this way I'll get to beat on you."

"Not for a while," said Jonathan. "You'll have to learn to walk before you run. Here."

Walking over to the balance beam, he patted it. This time I raised an eyebrow.

"You want me to get on that?" I asked.

"What else?"

"In this?"

'This' was a standard military uniform, a pair pants and a shirt. None of which were designed for gymnastics, I might add.

"I don't expect you to do anything fancy. Just demonstrate your balance."

Sighing, I walked over and climbed on. To my surprise, I nearly fell off when I stood up.

"What the hell," I muttered.

"Muscle memory," Jonathan suddenly said. "We were afraid of this. While your body more or less remembers how to move around, it does not retain the skills Rachel learned."

I smirked. "So you admit I'm not her?"

"You're whoever you want to be," Jonathan said. "Your name is Rachel Berenson, whether you're the original or not."

I lost the smirk and looked away from him. Trying to stand once more, I began going through motions once familiar. I did end up falling. A few times. But after about half an hour, I was getting the hang of it again. Didn't try anything fancy, but my body was getting more and more in tune. Like the way it should have been.

"So, enjoying yourself?" Jonathan asked.

Jumping down, I let out a short laugh. In a way, I really did have fun. It was nice stretching out my body. My body. Yeah, that sounded nice too.

"So? What else is there to do?"

"Now we begin your first lesson in martial arts."

We walked over to the pad and entered the circle.

"Traditionally, we don't start training by telling the student to try to knock down the teacher," Jonathan said, "and I'm not about to break with that particular tradition."

"Shame," I replied. "It'd be fun trying to take you down."

"I doubt you could," said Jonathan. "I've been trained in two schools of martial arts, one specifically designed to counter what I'm about to teach you."

"Oh, and is that really going to be fair when you let me try to take you down?"

Jonathan shrugged. "We'll see."

We'll see, we'll see, what, was this guy on rewind?

"I'm hardly caught on a loop," Jonathan suddenly said.

My glare should have made him wither, but Jonathan the ice king just stared right back at me. He was now officially the most infuriating guy I'd ever met. And no, I'm not falling in love. Jonathan raised his eyebrow again, but I was too distracted at the time to realize he'd just overheard my internal conversation again. A good thing too, cause I really would have punched him had my head been clear enough.

"Let's just do this thing," I snapped.

At the time, I had no idea what form of martial arts I was learning and Jonathan didn't bother to enlighten me. First he had me do some stances, front and back. He was fairly picky about how my legs were angled and wasn't shy about shifting them with his own feet. At one point, I finally got fed up and aimed a kick at his chest. Suddenly, Jonathan was in the air and seemed to glide over my leg before landing softly. I was too surprised by his move for my anger to linger and just gaped at him.

"How did you do that?" I asked.

"Years of training. Which you won't have the time for, but you'll at least be able to pull off a few surprises of your own."

"So now what?"

"Now? You go home to rest. You're obviously tired."

I stuck out my tongue at him before following him out of the gym. When we got home, Jonathan again walked me up to the door and waited until Jessica answered.

"Ah, you're back," she said to me, then turned to Jonathan. "Do you have time to stay for dinner? We have more than enough."

"No thank you," Jonathan said politely. "I still have some work to take care of."

"Stay."

The two of them turned their gaze onto me in surprise. I kept my eyes on Jonathan, face impassive. Then I grinned.

"Unless you want me to try kicking you while we're in 'therapy' again."

When Jonathan didn't move, I just grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.

"Rachel, I really can't-"

"Save it," I said, cutting off his protest. "You're staying for dinner and that's final. If you don't, well, don't expect me to be very cooperative tomorrow."

Staying silent, Jonathan let me drag him in. For a moment, I thought I saw a small smile crack. Maybe it was my imagination, since it was gone a second later and Jonathan's face was blank once more. Well, no matter. I'd be grilling him for the rest of this evening anyways.

End of Chapter 2

This fic is turning very much into one that revolves around the relationship between Jonathan and Rachel. However, the mission itself is still there. We'll see how it all goes.

Z98


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